Z A Storm Is Brewing Complete
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: When the BAU gets stranded in Boston for an extra night due to a snowstorm, Derek Morgan decides it's time to resolve the unfinished business he has with Penelope Garcia. But he should have known better. Business with Penelope was NEVER business as usual!
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I don't think this story will end here; I think it will probably be a three-shot. I'm not sure where I'm going with it, but my imagination will be working on it!_

"You can't handle the truth!" Penelope Garcia yelled in sync with Jack Nicholson. She placed her wine glass on the nightstand next to her bed. There was nothing like unwinding after a rough day at the office with A Few Good Men. She shook her head in appreciation as she dug into the bowl of popcorn on her lap. She was in a hotel room—which in itself was a rarity. She actually got to travel with the team this time due to the state of the art equipment housed at the FBI headquarters in Boston, Massachusetts. Their gear was so impressive that if the entire BAU would follow, she'd probably put in for a transfer.

A commercial break came on, so Penelope made her way over to the window and studied the thick white snowflakes falling from the sky. It snowed occasionally in Virginia, but she'd never seen anything like _this_ before. Snow at home was minimal and disappeared pretty quickly. It was _this_ nor'easter that had grounded their plane and forced them to spend another night in the city.

She jumped at the sound of knocking on her hotel room door and resisted the urge to shriek. Their last unsub had been hitting hotels alphabetically, so Penelope's first course of action was to look through the peephole—it didn't matter that he'd been caught. She grinned as she opened the door. "Hey ya, handsome."

Morgan was standing there with a grin on his face. "Hey, sweet stuff."

"Come on in," she said, as she turned around and made her way into the suite. Due to his notorious late nights, they'd put Morgan by himself, with Reid and Hotch in another room. And because the only vacancy in the entire hotel when they'd booked Morgan's room had been a double suite, Penelope had called dibs on the adjoining room so she could have some privacy. _She_ was notorious for her snoring. "This is an early night for you," she teased.

Penelope waited for his response, but Morgan didn't say anything. She turned around and he was so close that she brushed up against him. Her hand flew to her throat. "Oh, my," she said.

"Garcia," he said, leaning down so she could feel his breath on her ear. "I remember," he whispered.

She jumped back. "You remember _what_?" she asked breathlessly, taking a few steps back.

He matched her step for step until she reached the bed. When the backs of her legs hit it, she fell into a sitting position. He gave her a knowing look.

She cleared her throat. "I…don't know what you're talking about," she said evasively.

"I think you do," he said as he pulled his t-shirt off.

"Morgan!" she scolded, standing up and giving him a solid shove backwards. She picked his shirt up and shoved it at him. "Put this back on!" she ordered.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Don't like what you see?"

"I didn't…say…that," she said, her cheeks reddening.

"Miami," he reminded her. "Six months ago."

"Wha—" She took a deep breath. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she repeated insistently. She walked over to the door that led to his half of the suite and tilted her head towards the opening. "I think you've had too much to drink. A good nights' sleep will do you good."

He shook his head. "I know what would do me _better_."

"Morgan…" she said longingly.

"I haven't had a drop, Garcia."

"Then why were you down in the bar for so long?" she asked.

"I was thinking," he admitted.

She stood there for a minute, frozen.

He spoke first. "Don't you want to know what I was thinking about?"

She shook her head furiously. "Not even a little bit."

"I was thinking about Miami," he told her. "And I was wondering…_why_ I woke up alone the next morning."

Her eyes widened. "How do you even _know_ about Miami?" she asked in a rush.

"I was _there_," he told her.

"Yes, but you were so drunk! I mean—did you _just _remember? You haven't said anything in the past six months."

He shrugged. "I didn't think you wanted me to."

"I didn't!"

He tilted his head to the side. "Rematch?" He looked her up and down appreciatively. She didn't quite look sexy, but she was definitely adorable in her purple t-shirt and striped capris pajama bottoms.

"I…don't…believe this," she said, putting her head in her hands. "This could _only_ happen to me!"

He walked towards her and she threw the door closed and walked swiftly to the other side of the bed so that there was a barrier between them.

"_This_ is unprofessional," she told him.

"And Miami wasn't? You took advantage of me," he said with a grin. "I'm impressed, Garcia."

"That was a mistake," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't you _dare_ apologize," he said as he made his way to the opposite side of the bed. He put his knees on the bed and started moving towards her.

"Morgan," she said in a small voice.

When he reached the edge of the bed, he put his hand out and grabbed the fabric of the purple t-shirt that served as her night shirt. "What?" he asked softly.

"Morgan…" she said again.

He pulled her to him and placed his lips at the v of her t-shirt just above her breasts, moving his lips upward until he reached her neck. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his kisses. He lifted his head for just an instant. "What?" he asked again.

She moaned. "Don't…stop," she begged, wrapping her arms around his neck.

And that was all he needed to hear. He lifted his hands so they were framing her face and brought his lips down onto hers. She opened immediately, and he plunged his tongue inside of her mouth. He groaned at the taste of her, with just a hint of wine mixed in.

She pulled away frantically. "No!" she said firmly. "We can't do this."

He put his chin down so it was resting on his chest and gave a heavy sigh. "Fine," he said, as he sat down on her bed and picked up the remote. He looked at the television screen. "Tom Cruise?" He scoffed. "Pussy."

She rolled her eyes and made her way to the other side of the bed, sitting down next to him. They both had their feet on the bed and were sitting propped up against the pillows. "I was watching it for Jack Nicholson," she explained, trying to catch her breath. The man really knew how to kiss. Morgan—not Jack. She grinned at the thought.

"Good," he said, as he took her forgotten wine glass off of her nightstand and downed it in one swallow. He put it back down and turned the television off with the remote. He turned to her. "The way I see it, we _owe_ it to each other to have sex again," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Give it _up_, Morgan."

"No, seriously," he told her. "You didn't even get to see my best moves."

She burst out laughing. "I'll survive," she said. But she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

"I am waaaaaaay better when I sober," he told her.

"How do you know that?" she asked with amusement.

"Well, the events of that night _are_ hazy," he admitted. "But I do remember that it was pretty…quick. I need a chance to redeem myself."

"I'll tell you what, Casanova. If we ever get stranded in a snowstorm again, I'll let you redeem yourself."

He sighed. "You're breaking my heart, Garcia."

She grinned at him. "Yes, but I'm sure there's another woman right around the corner waiting to put it back together for you."


	2. Chapter 2

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Emily said, jumping to her feet. "You slept with Morgan? Six months ago? And you didn't _tell_ us?"

"Well, I—" Penelope sighed. "I hardly believed it myself."

"Why?" JJ asked, lifting Henry over her shoulder as she started patting his back firmly to get a burp out of him.

"It's _Morgan_," she said.

Emily and JJ just stared at her.

"OK, do I have another head?" she asked after a minute.

Emily laughed. "What's so hard to believe?" she asked as she sat back down.

"Come on," Penelope said. "Isn't it obvious?"

The girls sat there for a minute. "_I'm _clueless," JJ said.

"Ditto," said Emily.

Penelope sighed. "Sleeping with Morgan while he's drunk is one thing. But while he's _sober_?"

"OK," Emily said. "Not that I ever plan to, but if I were going to sleep with him, I'd _want_ him to be sober."

"Of course _you_ would," Penelope said. "Because you're built like a brick shithouse."

"Excuse me?" Emily said affronted.

JJ looked at her friend. "Not a brick out of place," she clarified.

"Oh," Emily said. "I guess that's…a _little_ bit better."

"So…you're insecure about…the way you look?" JJ asked.

Penelope nodded. "Well, yeah. That and…what if I'm not good in bed? _He's_ fantastic!"

"I'm not surprised," Emily said.

"Not helping," Penelope said with a glare.

"I'm sorry," Emily replied with a frown. "I'm not good at girl talk. I've always been a tomboy and…this is kind of a first for me."

Penelope nodded. "I could tell."

"Gee, thanks," Emily said.

JJ laughed. "You'll get better at it," she promised. "We just need to break you in."

"A virgin of sorts," Penelope mused.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Wow. This conversation is _really_ all over the place."

"Wowza!" Penelope said as Henry burped.

"Good boy," JJ said softly as she cradled him back in her arms. "So, what makes you think you're not good in bed?" she asked.

"Well, it's not like I've been around the block," Penelope said. "I mostly have a string of one night stands that I've left in my wake. Not exactly the best way to get feedback on my performance."

"Wow," JJ said. "I didn't peg you for a one night stand type of girl." She looked at Emily. "I did _you, _though."

Disbelieving laughter bubbled up Emily's throat. "Thanks a lot," she said. "I think I like guy talk better."

"And how does that go?" Penelope asked.

"Well, there's an itch here, a burp there, and an occasional grunt," Emily explained.

Penelope shook her head. "Too much effort. This way, we just have to move our mouths."

"I'm still confused about the brick shithouse comment," Emily said.

"Give it a few hours," JJ said. "It'll sink in."

"Are you _sure_ it's a compliment?" Emily asked.

"Positive," JJ said.

"So, back to the whole issue at hand," Penelope said, trying to redirect conversation. "What am I going to do?"

"Do you _want_ to sleep with him again?" JJ asked.

"I think so," Penelope said.

Emily laughed. "OK, I may not know girl talk, but I certainly know how to _read_ a person. There is no thinking involved. You want him."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Yes, Emily. I want him."

"Then you need to get over your insecurities, because those things are obviously a non-issue with Morgan," Emily said.

"How do you know?" Penelope asked.

"He came back for more," JJ said.

Emily nodded. "Exactly. He was drunk, but he remembered you. Obviously he liked the test drive."

"That's one way to look at it," JJ said. "Penelope, this has been a long time coming. You guys have a chemistry that's…unusual to say the least. He doesn't call anyone else Baby Girl."

"Well, he usually wants something from me," she said.

Emily grinned. "And this time—it's no exception."

"There you go!" JJ said. "See, you're getting better already."

"Thanks," Emily said with a nod.

"I think you should make him work for it," JJ said.

"You mean like…rake my leaves?" Penelope said sarcastically.

JJ laughed. "I mean make him romance you."

Penelope frowned. "I'm not sure I like that idea," she said. "Then it has to lead to something."

"That's up to you," JJ said. "But I can tell you right now, one night wasn't enough for you and Morgan before, and it isn't going to be enough for you now."

"How do you know?" Penelope asked. "Maybe we could just have one…really long tryst."

"That totally defies the definition," Emily said dryly.

"My, aren't you wordy?" Penelope said sarcastically. "So, how many _have_ there been?"

"How many what?" Emily asked.

"Men," Penelope answered.

Emily sighed. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. We want details," Penelope said. "Don't we, JJ?"

JJ nodded. "I _am_ curious," she admitted.

"Nothing we say leaves this room," Emily said firmly.

"Absolutely," Penelope said solemnly.

"Let me get Henry in his pack n play," JJ said, getting up. She put her son down and then made her way into the kitchen and returned with three long stemmed glasses and a bottle of wine. "Girl talk should equal girly drinks," she said, filling the glasses.

They each took one, and then JJ sat down on the floor at the coffee table. "Spill," she said.

Emily sighed. "I'm not going to give you an exact number," she told them. "But I went to an all girl boarding school, so…suffice it to say that when I graduated and went off to college, I went a little crazy," she said vaguely. "Dating wasn't my thing, and…once I finally…did the deed," she couldn't quite bring herself to say it out loud, "it was like I couldn't stop."

JJ nodded. "Like you'd created a monster?"

"You know what I mean?" Emily asked.

"Not really," JJ said. "I started dating my boyfriend my sophomore year in high school and we were together all through college. Then I got my job with the FBI on the east coast. He wanted to go to the west coast, so we broke up." She shrugged. "And there wasn't anyone until William."

"Goody two shoes," Penelope said, taking a sip of her whine.

"Your turn," JJ said.

"Oh, no," Penelope said. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Unless it's Morgan," Emily said.

JJ laughed. "We aren't asking you to kiss and tell. We're _asking_ you to have sex and tell."

"Oh, well in that case," Penelope said, clearing her throat. "I'm just…going to say this, and then it's over," she instructed. "No…open discussion, because this isn't a forum."

The other two girls nodded.

"I…like Emily, went a little crazy when I got to college. My parents were great parents, but they kept a tight reign on me. I was crazy my first semester, and then my second semester I met this guy who told me he'd been tested and was clean. Like a lovesick _fool_, I believed him. Until Chlamydia reared its ugly head. A few antibiotics later, all was well with my world, and I was single again. Since then, I've been very choosy and very careful."

"Smart girl," Emily replied.

Penelope nodded. "Clinky," she said, holding her glass out for the others to tap. She took a sip and then looked around. "We need music," she said.

JJ nodded. "Good idea. Let me get Henry upstairs so we don't wake him up." She brought him upstairs to his nursery and then came back down and opened the doors to her entertainment center. She pulled out a rack of CD's and handed them to Emily and Penelope.

"Do you have any more wine?" Emily asked as she poured the last bit into the glasses.

JJ shook her head. "No, but Will has some beer in the fridge. Is that OK?"

Emily nodded. "It'll do."

JJ left the room once again and then came back with some beer. "Look at these CD's!" Penelope said. "Ummm…the 80's called. It wants its big hair bands back."

JJ laughed. "Those are Will's CDs."

"Where are yours?" Emily asked.

JJ wrinkled her nose. "Mine are all classical. I'm guessing those don't go well with liquor."

"You guessed right," Penelope said.

"Guns n Roses?" Emily said. "Wow. I snuck out with a bunch of girls one night to go see them in concert."

"I would have _loved_ to have seen Guns n Roses in their hey-day. How were they?" she asked.

Emily shrugged. "I don't know. We never made it to the show. We got pulled over on the way, and since Randa Snowidowski only had a car and not her license, we all got caught."

"Oh, suck!" Penelope said.

Emily nodded as she took a large swallow of beer. "The one time I snuck out, and I got caught."

"Prentiss was a rule follower," Penelope surmised.

"That was me."

"You know what?" Penelope said.

"What?"

"You might not have made it to that show that night, but tonight, we're gonna crank Guns n Roses and we…are going to dance our little hearts out."

Emily quickly shook her head. "I don't dance," she said quickly.

"You do tonight," Penelope said getting to her feet. "JJ?"

JJ took the CD off the coffee table and put it in the stereo, and then turned it up as loud as she dared with Henry sleeping upstairs. Welcome to the Jungle started blasting from the speakers. Penelope grabbed Emily's hand and hauled her to her feet. "Let's go," she said.

Emily sighed as she began to move to the music.

"Have you ever even danced before?" Penelope asked when Emily started shuffling her feet from side to side.

"Not really," she said.

"Clearly," JJ said "You know what helps with that?"

"What?" Emily asked.

"More liquor. In my experience, the more you drink, the better you think you can dance."

"You know what? Maybe I should just sing?" Emily said.

Penelope laughed. "You can't dance but you think you could lead the band? Good one, Em."

"What? I can sing into a hairbrush with the best of them!" she argued.

Penelope picked up the long neck beer bottle and handed it to her friend. "Prove it."

Emily Prentiss never _could_ walk away from a challenge, and this was no exception. She grabbed the beer bottle defiantly and began to sing into it. A few more beers and songs later, Emily was still going strong with the lyrics, and Penelope and JJ had made their way onto the coffee table like they were speakers in a club. And that was the sight that greeted Will and Morgan when they walked through the front door.

All three girls froze when the music came to an abrupt halt. They each spun around.

"Babe?" Will said. "Look who I found while I was out with the guys."

JJ smiled as a nervous giggle slipped out.

"Monday morning at the water cooler is going to _rock_!" Morgan said as his gaze locked on Penelopes.

_Author's Note: So, this is going to be a three-shot instead of a two-shot. I thought it would be more fun for you to find out Penelope's insecurities through girl talk instead of through narration. Girl talk is one of my favorite things to write! Hope you enjoyed it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: FYI—this isn't a casefic—I'm not so intelligent that I could possibly write one of those! So the solving of this case probably won't be a major part of the plot. Also--__at this point, I've given up calling it a threeshot, etc. I guess it's just going to be written until it's done!_

"You didn't have to _slam_ the door," Garcia snapped as she struggled to catch up with JJ so she could share her umbrella.

Prentiss rolled her eyes as she paid the cabby. "Garcia, it's three a.m. and we were just paged to headquarters! I think we're in a bit of a rush here."

"Then why are you stopping to talk to me?" Garcia asked.

"Good question," Prentiss said, picking up speed. She slid her badge and the security guard buzzed them in.

"JJ?" Penelope whined.

"Yeah?" JJ asked, reaching into her purse for her water. Granted, she hadn't faired as badly as the other two being as she'd stopped after her second glass of wine, but no one looked good at three in the morning. And she needed to hydrate.

"I think I'm still drunk," Penelope said.

"Word of wisdom," JJ said. "I'd leave that out when you talk to Hotch."

Penelope sighed. "Thanks for letting me sleep in your spare bedroom."

JJ laughed. "You were in _no_ condition to drive," she reminded her friend.

Penelope nodded and then winced as they walked into the well lit lobby of FBI headquarters in Quantico. "I miss the dark."

JJ laughed again. "I bet you do."

The girls caught up with Emily inside and when they made it to the floor housing the BAU, they hustled through the doors. Unfortunately, Morgan was standing there waiting for them. Fortunately, he had coffee. He handed one to Prentiss and one to JJ and then Penelope practically pounced on him.

"Oh, Morgan," she said with a sigh as she took a paper cup out of the cardboard tray. "This is why I love you."

He lifted an eyebrow at her and then cleared his throat. "So, ladies," he said with a grin. "How's this cold November rain treating you?"

Prentiss stopped, handed her coffee to JJ, and then turned on Morgan. In less than two seconds, she had him pinned up against the wall, her forearm at his throat. "Enough!" she said. "And just so you know, the _only_ reason my gun isn't drawn, is because of the cameras in here! This is the _final_ time you talk about last night. You don't get to crash a party and then spill all the juicy details! Got it, Morgan?"

Morgan bit back a grin. "Yes, ma'am," he said solemnly.

Prentiss nodded, let him go, and then straightened her top out. "JJ?"

JJ passed her her coffee.

"I'm sorry I had to do that," Prentiss said to Morgan.

"Hey, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do," he said, falling in behind JJ and Prentiss as they headed for the office where Hotch had requested they meet. Penelope was walking beside him, moaning with pleasure as she took a long drink of the hot liquid.

Morgan leaned in. "I'd be making that noise, too, if it had been _you_ pinning me against the wall," he whispered.

Penelope's eyes widened and she choked on her coffee.

"You OK?" JJ asked, as she turned around, never breaking stride.

"Fine," Penelope said in a squeaky voice.

Prentiss groaned. "Get a room," she muttered.

Morgan's eyes flew to Penelope's as her face turned beet red. "Girls talk," she said hastily.

Before Morgan could say anything, they walked into the office and found empty seats to occupy.

"Garcia?" Reid said concerned. "You're _green_. Why are you green?"

She glared at Reid.

He put his arms up in surrender. "Forget I asked," he said.

Hotch walked into the room and threw a pile of folders on the table. They landed near the middle. Morgan, Reid, Prentiss, and JJ each snapped one up.

"_Where_ is this?" Morgan asked.

"Garrisonville," Hotch said.

"Fifteen minutes away?" Morgan said in disbelief.

Hotch nodded.

"How many files are there?" he asked.

Reid cleared his throat. "Six," he answered.

"Why were we just asked to be brought in on this thing now?" Morgan asked.

"Because it's just crossed state lines," Hotch said as JJ got up and left the room.

Hotch began to fill the team in while JJ let someone know they'd need the vehicles brought around. Their case revolved around a series of young girls, ages 13 to 17, murdered by manual strangulation and dropped in first South Carolina, then North Carolina, and now Virginia. There was a significant lapse in between each of the victims' time of death, and no signs of torture.

"He's hoarding his victims' bodies," Reid deduced. "The question is…why?"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Morgan said.

"And why is he dropping them in _pairs_?" Prentiss asked.

The door opened and JJ stuck her head in. "We're all set to go," she said, then let the door swing shut as returned to her office to get her things.

"Have they been able to identify any of the victims?" Morgan asked, getting to his feet.

"Not yet," Hotch informed him. "Garcia?"

"Check for teenagers reported missing within the last…how long has the first one been dead?" she asked.

"Approximately two weeks," Hotch told her. "But we don't know how long she was missing before she was murdered, so start within the last two weeks, and go back from there if you don't find anything."

"And where would you like me to start?" she asked, writing furiously on a pad of paper.

"He's obviously travelling north so…" Prentiss looked at Hotch. "Florida?"

Hotch nodded. "Let's go, team," he said.

Prentiss, Reid, Hotch and Morgan left the office and Garcia headed to hers to get started. She had just sat down when she heard the door open and shut behind her.

"Talk to me," she said, without turning around.

"You're still drunk," she heard Morgan say from behind her.

She spun around in her chair and lifted an eyebrow at him. "Not so drunk that you could get me into bed," she teased. But she wasn't so sure about that. It was three in the morning, and the guy looked like he'd just walked off the set of a GQ photo shoot. His chin was scruffy, and she couldn't quite shake the wonder of what it might feel like to her touch.

"Touché," he said with a grin, and then, "Drunk enough so that you'd let me kiss you?"

"Morgan…" she said weakly.

"I_ said_…drunk enough so that you'd let me kiss you?" he repeated more fiercely this time, walking towards her.

"We're at work," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "My shift doesn't officially start until eight."

She sighed. "It will be caught on camera," she warned him.

"That doesn't sound like a no," he said.

She didn't say anything, just stared up at him.

"Stand up, Garcia," he commanded in a low voice.

She sighed, but did as he told her to do. "That's my girl," he said, framing her face with his hands as his lips descended onto hers. He ran his tongue across the seam of her lips and she parted for him. His tongue sought hers and quickly found it. He heard her moan in pleasure when she lifted a hand and ran it down his stubbled cheek and across his chin. He couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped at the sound she made, and she immediately pulled back.

"What?" she asked.

"I like your sounds," he said softly, moving one of his hands to the back of her head and pulling her face back to his, holding it firmly in place.

"Oh," she said a second before their lips met again.

Her hands fell to his hips and pulled his lower body closer to hers, and that was when he pulled away. She was pleased to see he was breathing heavily. "Whoa, there, baby girl. You are the _queen_ of mixed signals."

She bit her lower lip and grinned up at him.

"I…have to go," he reminded her.

"Bye," she said nonchalantly, sitting back down in her chair.

He grinned at her. "You can use that tone with me all you want, but your insides…are churning."

She shrugged. "You'll never know," she said in a teasing tone.

"Oh, I'll find out," he threatened, as he left her office.

"Morgan!" she yelled after him.

He stopped and turned around.

"Be careful out there, " she said softly.

"Always," he promised with a wink before turning around and walking away.


	4. Chapter 4

Hotch sighed in frustration. They'd been working for two days and they had nothing. "What do we know so far?" he asked.

"The bodies have been well preserved," Prentiss said.

"Possible refrigeration," Reid added. "And there are burn marks on the victims' wrists. Like they were bound with _rope_," he continued. "The UnSub isn't confident enough that he can strangle them without first subduing them."

Hotch looked at the detective standing next to him. "Where are we on the rope?" he asked.

The detective shook his head. "Nowhere to be found," he said.

"Possible trophy," Reid said.

"Or it could be as simple as...he can't afford new rope," JJ said, shaking her head.

"Morgan?" Hotch asked, looking for his two cents.

"This is what I don't get," Morgan said. "There weren't any footprints at all around the body, except for ours. It was like a drop and drive."

"The UnSub would have had a heck of a time concealing two bodies in transport," Prentiss said.

"Or six," Reid chimed in. "It's almost as if he threw them out of the vehicle and down over the embankment. He may not have even gotten _out_ of the vehicle."

"He was in a hurry," Hotch said.

"Why?" Prentiss asked herself.

"Morgan," Hotch said. "Get Garcia on the phone and tell her to keep digging. There has to be a common link somewhere."

Morgan nodded and walked away from the group and hit one his speed dial.

"Ask and you shall receive," he heard Garcia say.

"Talk to me, Baby Girl," he commanded.

"I got zip," she said. "I checked FedEx, USPS, floral companies, television repair companies…I've checked it _all_, Morgan. And nothing."

"Keep digging," he said, "there has to be something that ties these girls together."

"You got it," she said, and he heard a click in his ear as she hung up.

___

Two hours later, while he and Reid were double checking one of the crime scenes, Morgan's cell phone rang. "Talk to me, Garcia."

"I think I have something," she told him.

"That is why I love those sweet lips of yours. They are so…plump with information," he told her.

"All four of those girls were abducted from Georgia," she told him, ignoring his comment about her lips.

He smirked at the thought of flustering her. "OK," he said.

"So I did a search within a five mile radius," she went on. "And the one thing all six of the abduction sites have in common is that there's a Gilman's Grocery nearby."

"Could be coincidence," he said.

"Maybe. Except that there's also a Gilman's Grocery within five miles of each of the drop sites so far."

"Truck driver," Morgan said.

"Bingo," Penelope agreed. "But there's more."

"Hold on. I'm gonna get Reid and put you on speaker."

Morgan found Reid and filled him in, then put his phone on speaker.

"Garcia?"

"I checked Florida when Prentiss suggested that the UnSub was heading north, but I didn't find anything. So I went west to Alabama, and that's where the trucks fill up for their deliveries."

"Garcia, you're a genius!"

"Yeah, I know," she said dismissively. "But here's another twist. There were two more abductions in Alabama, each within five miles of a Gilman's Grocery. Which means, either we have a dump site coming up…"

"Or one we haven't found yet," Morgan finished for her. "Good work, Garcia. This is why I love you, Baby Girl," he said, closing his phone.

___

After a little bit of research on her computer, Penelope was able to get a list of employees who drove truck for Gilman's Grocery. She narrowed the list from there, and she'd gotten a call a while ago when they'd apprehended the suspect and brought him in for questioning. She yawned as she shut her computer down and then stood, grabbing her bag so she could be on her way. She was already in the parking lot when she saw them. She smiled. "We got him," she said. Her smile faded and her eyes narrowed. "Where are Hotch and…Morgan? Where's my Morgan?"

JJ cleared her throat. "Garcia, Morgan was stabbed."

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

"He's going to be OK," Prentiss said quickly. "Hotch went straight to the hospital. He was stabbed in his upper thigh, but it didn't hit an artery. He's going to need surgery, but the EMT's assured us that he's going to be fine."

"Well…" She started breathing heavily, not even sure what to ask. "Where…where is he?" she finally got out.

She felt hands on her shoulder as if to comfort her, and Reid was standing there. "They took him to Potomac," he told her softly. "C'mon, I'll take you."

"I can drive," she insisted.

JJ shook her head. "We're not gonna let you drive, Garcia."

Penelope nodded as she swallowed past the lump in her throat. "OK. Let's go," she told Reid. He nodded and led the way to his vehicle.

___

Penelope and Reid walked into the ER and Reid, disregarding the hospitals rule about cell phones, immediately dialed Hotch, who told them where he and Morgan were. They made their way into the exam room and Hotch looked Garcia up and down."You OK?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "What's going on?" she asked quickly.

"They're getting him ready to go in for surgery," Hotch told them.

Penelope nodded. "Is he knocked out?" she asked.

"No," Morgan said with a groan.

Hotch and Reid, knowing that Morgan was going to be fine, went to the cafeteria to get something to eat, leaving her alone with him. She immediately moved to his bedside and took one of his hands. "Are you OK?" she asked softly.

"You should see the other guy," he said teasingly.

She gave him a stern look, and he nodded grinning lopsidedly at her. "I'm fine," he told her. "A little buzzed from whatever is in that bag," he said, looking up at the bag attached to his IV. "But I'm fine."

"What happened?" she asked.

Morgan shrugged. "I told the man who I was, and that I was with the FBI. He appeared to be cooperating, so I put my gun in its holster so I could cuff him. He leaned down and took a knife out of his sock and stabbed me while he was coming up."

"This is _so_ like you, Morgan," she said with nervous laughter.

"What?" he asked.

"I turn you down and you have to go and get all dramatic on me to make me feel sorry for you."

"You feel sorry for me?" he asked in a teasing tone. She was using humor to try and make herself feel better, so Morgan went along with it.

She nodded. "Does it hurt?"

"They gave me some good stuff," he told her again.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "You told me you were going to be careful," she reminded him in a whisper.

"It could have been a lot worse."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Do you…can you feel anything?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not really."

"Good," she said. She turned around and grabbed the pillow off the chair beside his bed and hit him twice in the face with it—not hard, just enough to make her point.

"Garcia!" he said firmly.

"I am so mad at you right now!" she told him, tossing the pillow back in the chair.

He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, giving her a tender kiss on the knuckles. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

She stood there for a moment, her hand at his lips before nodding. She could feel her eyes filling with tears. "I have to go now, because...I'm pretty sure I'm gonna cry, and I really don't' want you to see me like this," she said, turning to go just as transport came in to take him to surgery.


	5. Chapter 5

At the end of his first day back, she felt bad for him. At the end of the first week, she'd had enough of him. But at the end of the third week, the bastard was lucky to be alive.

"I'm gonna go grab some chips from the vending machine. You want anything?" Morgan asked.

Penelope shook her head. "I'm all set," she snapped.

Derek lifted an eyebrow at her, then turned on his crutches and left her office. She barely had time to relax before her phone started ringing. She hit the button, but no greeting flowed from her lips.

"Garcia. Do you have anything for me?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah," she snapped. "I have a hot tip. If Morgan goes missing, don't waste your time profiling. It was me. I did it."

"Garcia?" Hotch said again, indicating a request for clarification.

"Hotch, it's been three weeks. Can't he start travelling with you again?"

"He's not cleared for field work," Hotch reminded her.

"I swear to God, Hotch…" She looked around her office—at the circles on her desk area from the many cups of coffee he brought in—overfilled so the liquid sloshed over the edges of the cups when he put them down—and at the popcorn kernels he'd dropped all over her carpet. "I'm going to kill him."

"Garcia—"

"I can't take it, Hotch!" she yelled. "And no, I still don't have anything."

"Hopefully just a little longer," she heard him say, his voice tinged with humor. When she heard the line click, she threw her headset down onto her desk and dropped into her seat with a sigh. From the corner of her eye, she saw Morgan approaching her office with his bag of chips and a packet of peanuts. She turned her chair around so it was facing the door. "Stop!" she commanded before he could walk through the doorway.

"What?" he asked looking around.

"You can't come back into my office," she told him, on the brink of panic.

"Garcia—"

"_Until_ you've cleaned up this…mess with your…_fricken'_ coffee rings and…your _fricken'_ popcorn kernels you _cannot_ come into my office! I can't take it, Morgan! I just…I _can't_ take it!"

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "I think I liked you better when you were hitting me in the face with a pillow."

"Morgan—"

"And speaking of pillows, what kind of pillow talk do you like?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"What?!" she asked in disbelief. The last thing she was, at this exact moment, was attracted to him, and he was talking pillow talk? What the hell was wrong with him? OK, now she was attracted to him again. Seriously? Seriously! "You're infuriating," she spat.

He lifted one corner of his lips in a grin. "And yet you still want me," he taunted.

"I'm mad, Morgan, not blind," she muttered.

"Neither am I, baby girl," he told her in a low voice, his gaze travelling up and down her body. "Neither am I."

___

"Everything is going to be fine," Penelope told JJ and Will later that night as she looked at Henry, fast asleep in his crib. How hard could it be? He was her godson, for crying out loud. They must have some kind of bond just from that. So what if she hadn't seen him very often? Babies were simple…right?

"If you need anything," JJ said. "If he so much as _sneezes_—"

"Honey," Will said. "Our reservations are in an hour. And it's going to take that long to get there."

"Right," JJ said. She leaned down and kissed her son on his cheek, and then turned to her husband. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded. "Thanks again, Penelope," he said as they left the nursery.

"No problem," she said as she watched them walk out the front door.

___

Except that forty-five minutes later, she realized that it was a _big_ problem. Henry was awake—and screaming at the top of his lungs. She'd changed him, tried to feed him—but he wouldn't take his bottle, and now she was sitting in the chair rocking him, but it wasn't helping. He was still crying. She pulled out her cell phone and typed in "how to get a baby to stop crying." The first thing that caught her eye was riding. She put Henry in his car seat, wrapped a blanket around him, and took the shrieking baby to her car. She rode around for twenty minutes, and he had calmed down a little, but was still crying. She bit her lower lip as she heard him sobbing. She stopped the car and hit four on the speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Morgan, what are you doing?" she asked frantically.

"Just…reviewing a case," he told her.

"Are you…attached to it?" she asked.

"What's going on, Garcia?"

"I—I need you, Morgan," she said.

"Right now?" he asked.

"Right now," she affirmed.

"Well it's about damn time," he said.

"Morgan! Not for _that_," she told him.

"Then for what?" he asked, his tone low.

She sighed. "Are you going to be home?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Great. I'm out front. I'll be right in," she said, closing her phone.

She walked to his front door, and he had it opened before she even made it up the steps. "You brought company," he said, his eyes falling to the car seat.

She nodded. It didn't escape her attention how sexy he looked standing there, resting on his crutches in a white t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts. It was obvious that he was in for the night—and not expecting company. For some reason—that made her feel really good.

___

"What's the problem?" Derek asked when she had taken off her coat and was sitting down on the couch.

"He doesn't like me," she said with a pout as she leaned back into the pillows.

Morgan laughed. "Of course he likes you."

"No, Morgan. He'd been up for like…five minutes and already he was screeching so loudly that I think he popped one of my eardrums."

"Your ears look fine to me," Morgan observed.

"I'm not kidding, Morgan," she said. "It's like when he hears my voice—"

As if on cue, Henry started screaming.

"See?" she said.

Morgan laughed as he leaned forward and picked Henry up out of his car seat. "Hey, buddy," he said.

"I wouldn't talk to him," she warned.

But Henry broke out into a smile as he reached for Derek's face and rested both of his hands on his cheeks.

"Would you look at that?" Derek said softly.

"Awww…he _likes_ you," Penelope said.

"Of course he does. Everybody likes Derek Morgan."

Penelope rolled her eyes.

"Jealousy is ugly, Garcia. Even on a hot momma like you."

She laughed at that, and Henry turned in her direction. At the sight of her, his face scrunched up and his lower lip began to quiver.

"Don't cry," Penelope begged.

Derek moved the baby so that Penelope was no longer in his line of vision. "It's OK," he said with a grin. And then, to Garcia, "What did you _do_ to him?"

"Nothing! I didn't do anything!" she said fervently.

"Well, you did something," Derek muttered.

"Do you have any liquor?" she asked.

"You're not drinking while you're watching JJ's kid," he scolded.

"I was gonna put it in his bottle," she joked.

"You're gonna make a great mom, Garcia," Morgan said sarcastically.

"Are you kidding? This kid is like live birth control. He's cute, but his personality leaves a little bit to be desired."

Morgan laughed. "He just needs to know that you're not scared of him."

"I'm not scared of him," she said.

"Wanna hold him?" Morgan asked.

"No!" she said quickly.

Morgan grinned triumphantly.

"Fine. He's a little intimidating," she admitted.

___

"Is he out?" she asked quietly.

"Like a light," Derek whispered.

She nodded. "Good. That's good."

Morgan stood up carefully, then used one crutch as he carried Henry to a room off the living room and laid him down.

"How's your thigh?" she asked when he returned.

He lifted an eyebrow at her, and fought a grin.

"Where you were stabbed," she clarified.

He laughed. "It's fine," he told her.

"Good."

"You want a beer?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I can't. I'm on duty," she reminded him.

"Right," he said, as he got up. He made his way to his kitchen and returned with a beer for himself and bottled water for her. "Sorry. It's all I have," he said, sitting back down on the couch.

"That's fine," she said.

"Listen, Garcia…I'm sorry I've been driving you nuts," he told her. "I'm just bored as hell."

"I know," she said understandingly. "I'm sure it's hard to be stuck at Quantico while everyone else is out in the field."

He nodded as he took a long swallow of beer. "That and the fact that I'm stuck in that tiny office with _you_ all day long."

"Am I getting on your nerves?" she asked with a grin.

He smiled back at her. "More like…every nerve _ending_," he admitted.

"Derek…" she said nervously.

He reached over with his hand and picked up a piece of her hair. "Tell me you don't feel it," he said, his eyes darkening. He ran his hand down her soft locks until it fell back down onto her shoulder.

"Derek, that's not the point," she said evasively.

He put his bottle down onto the coffee table and moved closer to her.

"You're ignoring my statement."

"I know," she said anxiously. He kept coming closer and closer.

"Why?" he asked.

Instead of answering, she moved closer, meeting him halfway. "This will make things messy," she said.

"As long as the mess doesn't trickle into your office…" he teased.

"Derek…"

"Penelope…"

His mouth came down onto hers and he ran his tongue along her lower lip. He didn't want soft and sweet. He'd been waiting for this for a long time, and he wanted hot and hard. His tongue plunged into her mouth as soon as it opened, and when it found hers, he lifted his hands up under her shirt to rest on her bare skin just above the waistband of her pants. She lifted her arms to his shoulders and her grip tightened. He leaned backwards on the couch, taking her with him. She kissed him eagerly, and it excited him to know that she'd been waiting for it as long as he had. He brought his hands up to unclasp her bra and splayed the fingers of one hand along her ribcage before tugging her bra away from her breasts and moving it upwards. He reached down for the hem of her shirt and pushed it up, his thumbs caressing her nipples.

He pulled away from her, breaking the kiss. "Garcia," he said breathlessly.

"What?" she moaned.

"Take your hands off my shoulders and put them on the couch," he told her.

"What?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Just trust me," he said.

She did as she was told, and he moved further down the couch so that his face was even with her breasts. He brought his hand up to run his thumb over one nipple, and at her sharp intake of breath, he lifted his head to take her other nipple in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around and around, and then used his teeth to nip at the peak of her breast.

"Derek," she said.

He pulled his mouth away, and moved to her other breast, paying it the same attention. He was reaching for the snap on her pants when he heard a ringing phone.

"Derek," Penelope said.

But he was already unbuttoning her pants.

"Derek!" she repeated. "That might be JJ."

He fell back onto the couch with a sigh, and she reached for her phone in her purse, sitting up so that she was straddling him, her hand resting absently on his stomach. She cleared her throat. "Hello?" she said, trying like hell to keep her voice even. But it was hard when Morgan reached up and took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them around. He was lying there with one arm behind his head, a smug look on his face. She batted his hand away, but he just reached for her again.

"Yeah, he's doing great, JJ. He's fast asleep. He loves his Aunt Penelope."

Derek had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing at _that_.

"OK. I'll see you in a bit." She snapped her phone closed and jumped up, giving Morgan an entertaining view of her bouncing breasts. "I have to go," she said.

He groaned. "Of course you do."

"I can't _believe_ we fooled around like that! And while I was babysitting!"

He moved to a sitting position, watching her pace. Her bra was still undone, and it was hard to look at anything else while her breasts were practically beckoning him.

"I feel like I'm fifteen again and Todd Jenkins just snuck into the Harlow's house!"

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Who in the hell is Todd Jenkins?" he growled.

"Just some…kid I fooled around with," she said dismissively. "Can you fasten my bra?" she asked, turning around.

Now_ that_ he could do. She pulled her hair over her shoulder so that it was out of the way, and he stood up. But instead of fastening her bra, he began to place soft kisses along her spine. He felt her shiver beneath his lips. "Morgan!" she half scolded, half moaned. "No! JJ and Will are on their way home and…oh my God! I am _so_ irresponsible. Henry was in the next room!" she said.

He fastened her bra and waited for her to adjust her shirt before spinning her around. "He's still fast asleep, Garcia," he told her.

She sighed. "I can't believe it! I was gonna make you _work_ for it!" she said crossly.

He smirked. "But you just couldn't resist me, could you, Garcia?"

She shook her head and sighed. "Not for a second," she said, kissing him hard on the mouth again. "I have to go."

She spun around to go get Henry, but Derek grabbed her wrist. "Garcia?" he said in a low tone of voice.

"Yeah?" she asked distractedly.

"Just so you know—I have _no_ problem working for it."

"Your leg," she said, as if just remembering that it had been injured.

"Has never been better," he assured her.


	6. Chapter 6

Penelope got home in plenty of time to get Henry into his crib—it appeared as thought he'd never woken up. And after JJ and Will got home, she left. Penelope wasn't sure whether she was going to go back to Derek's or not—she was still thinking about it. There was no doubt in her mind—if she went back, she _would_ end up in his bed.

Before Miami, getting Derek into bed hadn't even been on her radar. She didn't think she was exactly his type—what with having curves and all. But when he'd come onto her, she hadn't had the resolve to say no. While she'd like to blame it on the single glass of wine she'd had, she wasn't stupid. One glass wasn't going to impair her judgment. And the things she'd shared with JJ and Emily were only part of her predicament. She _was_ insecure about the way she looked and she _did_ question her capability in the bedroom.

But the piece of herself that she hadn't shared with her friends—that she was pretty sure she was in love with Derek Morgan—well, that was her biggest obstacle of all.

Penelope was still weighing her options when her work cell phone rang. She hit the answer button on her phone. "Garcia."

"Aaron Hotchner requested that I call and inform you that your presence is expected within the next hour at F.B.I. Headquarters," the woman on the other end of the telephone said.

"Thanks," Penelope said as she hung up her phone.

She sighed in annoyance. Now that going back to Derek's was off the table, it was all Penelope could think about.

___

"We're going to Boston," Hotch informed his agents. "Morgan—I was able to get you cleared to travel with the team. You won't be able to be out in the field, but you can at least be with us wherever we're set up."

"We were in Boston less than two months ago," Derek reminded Hotch, surprising even himself with his irritated state. For the first time in his career, Derek was convinced that the _real_ action…would be back here in the IT room with Garcia.

"I can't control where things are happening," Hotch said. "And make sure your go-bags are stocked. We need to be prepared to be there for a few days. They're predicting another nor'easter and they're saying it's going to last until Wednesday. I want everyone to have extras in case we're grounded."

"_The way I see it, we __**owe**__ it to each other to have sex again," Morgan said._

_Penelope rolled her eyes. "Give it up, Morgan."_

"_No, seriously," he told her. "You didn't even get to see my best moves."_

_She burst out laughing. "I'll survive," she said. But she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or herself._

"_I am waaaaaaay better when I sober," he told her._

"_How do you know that?" she asked with amusement._

"_Well, the events of that night are hazy," he admitted. "But I do remember that it was pretty…quick. I need a chance to redeem myself."_

"_I'll tell you what, Casanova. If we ever get stranded in a snowstorm again, I'll let you redeem yourself." _

Penelope shook her head to break her trance. What were the chances that the BAU would end up in Boston again so soon? Thank _God_ she would be in Quantico this time. She was certain Derek would hold her to her word otherwise.

"Garcia?" Hotch said.

Penelope's head snapped up. "Yeah?"

"I remembered how much you liked their equipment so I pulled some strings. I want you on the plane, too."

"Oh, Hotch. You shouldn't have," she said weakly. Her eyes flew to Derek's face. He was sitting there staring at her, one eyebrow raised.

Clearly he remembered the conversation, too. Fuck.

___

_Somewhere near the front of the plane…_

The team had just finished briefing and JJ and Emily made their way to the front, sitting down with Garcia. The girls were in mid conversation when Penelope's personal cell phone vibrated in her lap. She looked down. _You have 1 new text message._

She flipped her phone open and hit the _read now_ button on her touch screen.

_Derek: I have to know…did I at least get you off?_

Penelope's eyes widened. _What? _she texted back.

Her phone vibrated again within seconds.

_Derek: I have to know! In Miami…did you get off?_

Penelope had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. _Oh, poor Derek. Does your ego need a stroke today? _she returned.

Bzzz...Penelope opened her phone once again.

_Derek: Darlin', if you're in the mood for strokin', let me assure you…my ego is the last thing on my mind._

The man sure had the shock factor down; Penelope had to purse her lips to keep from gasping. She quickly snapped her phone shut. Time for _this_ conversation to come to a halt.

"Garcia?"

Penelope looked up at the sound of Emily's voice and realized she must have said her name a few times.

"Huh?" she asked.

"I asked if everything was OK. You look a little flushed."

"Fine," Penelope said quickly, pulling her shirt away from her chest and fanning herself. "Is the plane always this hot?" she asked dramatically.

"I was thinking it was kind of chilly," JJ said.

"Hmmm," Penelope said, turning her gaze to look out the window.

_Somewhere near the back of the plane…_

"Derek?" Reid said

Morgan looked up. "Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Reid asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What are you grinning at?" He leaned over to look at Derek's phone, but he snapped it shut.

"None…of your business," Derek informed him.

Reid grinned. "So, the infamous Derek strikes again. Tell me, how many victims _have_ you left in your wake?"

"Come again?" Derek asked.

"I'm sure you've left a string of broken hearts behind you. How many? I mean, approximately. You couldn't possibly remember the exact number," Reid reasoned.

"Hey, Kid. Anyone ever tell you you're nosey?" Derek asked.

Reid just grinned.

___

It was a quick one. The team had gotten into Boston late last night and they'd had to pull an all-nighter. Then they'd been up all day and late into the evening working the case. But the UnSub had finally been caught and the team—minus Derek—had made their way back to the hotel for some much needed rest.

They were staying at the same hotel they'd used the last time they were in Boston, and the girl at the front desk who'd checked them in _last_ time had taken their reservations _this_ time. She'd been kind enough to take it upon herself to book the same sleeping arrangements as before. Penelope hadn't been too thrilled with _that_. And to top all of it off, Hotchs' source on the forecast had been dead on. It had started snowing shortly after they'd gotten in and hadn't let up since. They were grounded in Boston. Again. And Penelope was sharing a suite with Derek. Again

Thank God he was out…doing whatever the hell it was he was doing. With any luck, by the time he got back, she'd be fast asleep in her own bed. And if he was a gentleman, he wouldn't wake her. Penelope's eyelids fluttered closed…finally. While she liked to think she was fine with Derek out in Boston prowling for females, the truth was, she was pissed as hell. If she wasn't in love with him, he could be in _her _bed tonight. With this line of thinking, it was a miracle her eyes could close at all.

Penelope was jolted awake by a knock on the door. Her eyes flew to the clock. She'd been out for approximately…ten minutes. Ten minutes? What the hell? "You have a key, Derek!" she growled. But there was more banging on the door, this time more persistent. She threw the covers back and jumped out of bed, then stomped her way to the door, throwing it open. "Derek Morgan—" She halted mid-scolding.

It was Derek, all right. And he was standing there wearing a suit minus the tie—holding a dozen red roses. He was wearing a pair of gray dress pants with a matching suit jacket that was hanging open. He had a light yellow shirt underneath, the top few buttons leading up to his neck left undone. She looked down at herself—in her flannel button up pajama top and matching elastic waist bottoms. This scenario was so ridiculous, she almost laughed aloud.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly, leaning against the doorframe

Derek lifted his empty hand to her cheek and lowered his mouth to hers. "_Working_ for it," he whispered.

Penelope felt her heart melt when his lips touched hers and she couldn't help but whimper.

The hand on her cheek moved to encircle the back of her neck, and she felt the roses against her back as his other arm came around her waist. Her hands had no place to rest but his chest and when his tongue met hers, her hold on him tightened.

And then he pulled away. "Are we really gonna do this in the doorway?" he asked with a smirk.

_Are we really gonna do this at __**all**_**? **Penelope thought to herself. She was in dangerous territory here, even allowing Derek to kiss her. She'd taken Henry to Derek's out of necessity, and what had happened then—well, she couldn't exactly say she was sorry for it. But it certainly hadn't been premeditated. A repeat performance was only going to make her fall even harder for him. Was she going to be able to do this and then go to work and have to see him every day?

"Penelope?" he asked when she didn't answer. Her eyes lifted to his and she stepped back, forcing his grip on her to relax. He walked into the room and softly closed the door behind him, then turned to face her.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: This is the last chapter of A Storm Is Brewing, and I'm not gonna lie, it was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!_

The space between them was just too much. Derek's hand fell to his side, and he let the flowers drop to the floor. He closed the gap that separated them with a single step, lifting his hands to frame her face.

Penelope lifted her own so they were resting on his. There was an intensity in his eyes that she'd never noticed before, causing her to tighten her grip on his fingers. "Thank you for the flowers," she said breathlessly, unable to let the gesture go ignored. The fact that he'd taken the time to dress for her, to go out and buy her flowers—_roses_, she corrected—meant more to her than she could put into words. Derek Morgan was a master at seduction.

"Penelope…" he said softly.

But she shook her head. "No," she said, choking back a sob. "No talking, Derek." She wanted this, and if she took the time to think about it, she knew she wouldn't do it.

The only thing he could do was nod. His throat was suddenly dry—the thought of being with her again overwhelming him.

Except the thing was—Derek _wanted_ to talk. He had so much to say to her—starting with where things would go after tonight. This was only _part_ of what he wanted from her. But unless he'd been trying to get a woman into bed, he wasn't good with words. So he was going to have to show her how he felt the only way he knew how. He was going to love her with his body.

He pulled his hands from her face, and lacing his fingers with hers, escorted her to the bed she'd been occupying in their suite.

His leg was throbbing having walked around Boston searching for roses that weren't wilted, but dammitt, he'd suffer through the pain. He almost grinned at the thought. He was pretty sure there wouldn't be any suffering involved.

When he reached the bed, he sat down, his legs spread out. He looked up at Penelope, and she stepped between his knees and lowered her face to his. Her lips were soft and gentle. He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned back onto the mattress, Penelope following him. He felt warm liquid on his cheeks and suddenly, Penelope put a hand on his chest and pushed herself up.

"I can't do this, Derek," she said softly. And when Derek saw her glistening eyes, he knew where the moistness had come from.

"Sure you can," he coaxed soothingly as he gave her a light squeeze. "You promised me redemption, remember?"

She shook her head and pushed him away. "No, I can't," she said breathlessly.

"Why not?" he asked as she rolled off of him. He lifted himself up onto an elbow so he was looking down at her. She had one arm above her head, her hair fanned out around her face on the pillow. She looked…stunning. That was the only word that had enough impact to describe the way he saw her at that very moment.

She met his eyes, and he saw the uncertainty in them. "I'm in love with you," she admitted softly.

You could have knocked him over with a feather. OK, he knew she _wanted_ him, but to be in love with him? _That_ was a surprise.

"And for you—this would just be another night," she continued.

"Who said that?" he asked quietly.

"_I'm_ saying that," she told him. "And trust me, if I thought I could sleep with you and then just walk away…" She winced. "I would do it. But I'm not sure I can. And…it's not _your_ fault that you aren't in love with me—"

"Who says I'm not in love with you?" he interrupted.

Penelope sat there for a moment flabbergasted. "Well, who says you _are_?" she shot back for lack of a better retort.

"_I_ do," he said determinedly.

She stared up at him, her lips parting in surprise. For the first time in her life, Penelope Garcia was at a loss for words. "Derek," was the only thing she could say. And even then, it was more of a breath than an actual word.

"Penelope," he answered, his eyes softening.

She shook her head. "You're just trying to get me into bed," she said dismissively.

"Well, you're right about that," he teased with a grin.

Penelope tried to sit up, but he put a hand on her shoulder, preventing her from moving.

"Let me go," she said, avoiding his gaze.

"Mmm-mmm," he said, shaking his head.

"Please," she said.

He put a hand on her cheek, gently moving her head so she'd have to face him. "Nope," he said simply.

"Derek…"

"You don't have to believe my words, Garcia," he said tenderly. "But let me make love to you. And _then_ you try to tell me that I don't love you," he challenged. He shook his head. "I _promise_ you won't be able to do it."

She relaxed back into the mattress, studying his face for any sign of untruthfulness. But she couldn't find it. "And what if I still don't believe you?" she asked anyway.

He grinned down at her. "Then I'll just have to try again," he said. "And again and again if I have to." He shrugged. "I'm willing to take one for the team."

Penelope laughed on a sob. "You're willing to do that, huh?" she teased.

"Oh, yeah," he said, leaning down and gently touching his lips to hers. He didn't want this to be a kiss full of passion—she'd already seen that side of him. But in this instant, Derek wanted to show her _this_ side. Tonight it was all about Penelope. "There's only one rule," he whispered, tearing his lips from hers.

"What's that?"

"You can't touch me," he told her.

"What?"

"You heard me," he said, lowering his lips to her neck. Derek managed to get her night shirt unbuttoned in the meantime and he helped her shrug out of it, then dropped it to the floor. He used the pads of his thumbs to caress her nipples, and after a sharp intake of breath, her hands came up to his lower back. She used her fingertips to trace a path to his shoulders. Every spot that she touched was electric.

His hands reached up to seize her wrists. _"What _did I tell you?" he asked.

"But…" When he let go, she reached for him again.

"Hey, hey, hey! Hands…to…yourself," he scolded her. "This is my chance to redeem myself, and baby, I am gonna make you so hot, you just might go up in flames." He grinned at her. "Don't _make_ me tie you up."

"Well, what good is it gonna be for me if I don't get to touch you?" she asked. And then what he'd just said sunk in. Being tied up by Derek Morgan didn't sound like a bad thing.

He looked at her and lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, trust me," he said, his tone guttural. "It's_ gonna_ be good." Derek stood up beside the bed and tugged her pajama bottoms and panties off. Then it was his turn—and Penelope watched as he undressed. His suit jacket went first, and when he began to unbutton his dress shirt, Penelope found herself mesmerized. The sight of his upper body was remarkable and the only thing that could pull her gaze away from it was the sound of his zipper. Her eyes lowered to find him fully aroused. And impressive. Last time, there really hadn't been much foreplay and she hadn't had the opportunity to see all of him. And after he stepped out of his pants and boxer briefs, she lost _this_ one. Derek leaned forward and put his hands behind her calves, then hauled her across the mattress.

"Derek!" she said in surprise, clutching the sheets.

"Trust me," he said gruffly. "You'll like this." She let go of the sheets, and when her backside reached the edge of the mattress, Derek dropped to his knees beside the bed. He spread her legs apart, and then put his hands on the backs of her thighs, lifting them one at a time so they were resting on his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her upper legs, his hands coming around to the front of her. He used his fingers to separate her, then his tongue darted out of his mouth to taste her.

He _nearly_ groaned in pleasure.

She _did. _

He used his tongue, moving up and down her center instead of concentrating on one spot. Her legs tightened on his shoulders.

"Derek," she said, her back arching up off the bed.

"Relax," he coached softly.

He felt her legs go limp and continued with his task. He moved his tongue downward, used it to push inside of her then withdrew, moving it upwards. He continued the rhythm until he felt her stiffen again, all the while taking pleasure in every noise that came from her lips.

"Derek…" she said raggedly.

"Yeah, baby?" he pulled away only long enough to say the words, then returned to his task.

He heard her hiss as she took a deep breath. "You're…getting me there faster than I want to go," she told him, her voice hoarse.

"Don't worry. I'll take you there more than once," he promised. His tongue continued it's expedition until she finally came, crying out his name. Her body slumped listlessly onto the mattress.

As Derek stood, Penelope pulled her legs back onto the bed and he lay down beside her, his lips tracing a path from her stomach up to the valley between her breasts slowly—to give her a reprieve. He lifted his eyes to hers. "Ready for round two?" he asked hoarsely. He sure as hell was.

Penelope nodded as she parted her legs for him. She wanted him inside of her—hot and hard.

Derek poised himself at her opening and entered her slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. _Her_ eyes were closed and her lips parted with a small gasp as he filled her; her hands were beside her head, clutching the pillow. When her tongue flitted out of her mouth to lick her lower lip, he nearly came. But he was able to hold himself in check. He pulled back until he was just inside of her, and then moved himself into her again, slowly. When her shoulders came up off the bed, Derek wrapped his arms around her, holding her upper body close to his even while their lower bodies moved together. Her hips rose again and again to meet his and he kept it slow for as long as he could. But when her arms came around his shoulders and he felt her teeth nip at his shoulder, that was Derek's undoing. His hips increased their momentum until he couldn't hold back anymore. "Penelope," he said raggedly at the same time he heard her call out his name. He pushed inside of her one more time, and after a satisfied sigh from both of them, Derek dropped his body down onto hers.

He lay there, saying nothing. Had it been enough to convince her? he wondered. He forced patience upon himself when all he really wanted to do was ask the question. But something inside told him he needed to wait for her to speak first.

It felt like forever before her arms came up around his shoulders. He felt her fingers link together at the base of his neck.

He lifted his head, his eyes resting on hers. He knew his own were full of question.

"I love you, too," she whispered, pulling his head down to hers.

___

"Yes," Penelope said with a yawn a few hours later.

"Yes, what?" he asked.

"Yes, you got me off in Miami. Twice, in fact."

"I Know," he said smugly.

"What?" she asked.

"I…wasn't as drunk as I may have led you to believe," he told her.

She lifted herself up onto her elbows. "What?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

Derek sighed. "I _wanted_ to sleep with you in Miami," he told her. "You thought it was out of convenience, but it wasn't. Not anyone would have done that night, Penelope. I wanted _you_."

"But…"

"And then, when we woke up the next morning…you pretended that nothing had happened." He shook his head. "You have to be the most stubborn woman I know. I…did the same thing to try and make it easier for you. But it just got harder and harder for me. I wanted you again. So…when we were here before, I pretended that I remembered bits and pieces."

"And then you continued the ruse with those text messages," she said. "Smart."

"How mad are you?" he asked. He was convinced she would be furious, but it didn't matter. After what they'd shared just a few hours ago, Derek wanted there to only be truth between them. If she needed time to get over this, so be it. He'd wait if he had to.

"I…" She sighed. "I lied to you, too," she said with a shrug. "I guess all's fair in love and war."

Derek laughed as he moved his head to the spot between her shoulder and neck to nuzzle her.

A little while later, they were both fast asleep.

___

Penelope stretched with a groan as she woke up, fixing her eyes on the window. "Wow. That is _some_ storm brewing out there," she said softly as she watched the thick snowflakes falling past the glass.

Derek growled as he opened his own eyes. "It's nothing compared to the one brewing in here."

Penelope laughed. "_I'll_ say." She could already feel his arousal against her leg. Her body was already humming in anticipation. She moved both hands behind her head, the sheet down to her waist per Derek's insistence. He reached down onto the floor and picked up a rose, holding the stem in his hand. He used the petals to trace a path from her belly button up to her neck. She shivered at the tickling sensation.

Derek leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "So, I'm thinking our next stop should be Vegas," he told her.

"Ah, yes," Penelope said with a grin. "Someplace where we won't get snowed in."

He laughed. "There's that…" he said, his voice trailing off. He waited a second, but she said nothing. "Do you really not see where I'm going here?" he asked dryly. "Vegas, Garcia."

"I—" She sat there for a moment, unblinking.

"Are you getting it?" he asked.

She nodded. "Home of…wedding chapels. And…Wayne Newton. And…Elvi."

"Elvi?" he asked.

She winced. "The plural of Elvis. I just made it up."

"I like it," he said with a chuckle. "So…what do you think?"

"I think…I need a little clarification," she told him.

He spelled it out for her. "About marrying me."

"Do you have a ring?" she teased.

"No," he told her. "But I can make one." He licked a finger and then traced a circle around her nipple. "There's _one_," he said. He moved his hand to the other side and did the same thing. "There's _two_," he said, his eyes locking on hers. He reached down between her legs. "And this one…" He traced a slow circle around her core. "Makes _three_."

She threw her head back. "Soooo much better than a diamond!" she declared with a shudder.

"So, what do ya think? You wanna be Mrs. Morgan?" he asked.

"Are you still gonna call me Garcia?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nope. The Morgan is what makes you mine," he said.

She laughed, tilting her head to the side and batting her eyelashes. "How can a girl argue with that?"

"Is that a yes?" he asked, his eyes gleaming.

She frowned. "Do you think it's too quick?"

"Garcia, how long have we worked together?" he asked.

She thought for a minute—or at least, she pretended to. She knew exactly how long they'd been working together. "Almost six years," she said.

He nodded. "Six looong years, Garcia. Of teasing." He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth. "And longing," he paid the same attention to the other one, and then lifted his head so his eyes met hers. "Foreplay," he concluded. "I'm 39 years old, Garcia. And I know what I want. Do you?"

"Yes," she said with no hesitation.

"What do you want?"

His question was a dare—she knew it was. "You," she breathed. "I want you."

He smiled tenderly at her. "I'm all yours."

***THE END***


End file.
